Chapter 29

XXXIV. Perikles was unmoved by any of these attacks, but quietly endured all this storm of obloquy. He sent a fleet of a hundred ships to attack Peloponnesus, but did not sail with it himself, remaining at home to keep a tight hand over Athens until the Peloponnesians drew off their forces. He regained his popularity with the common people, who suffered much from the war, by giving them allowances of money from the public revenue, and grants of land; for he drove out the entire population of the island of Aegina, and divided the land by lot among the Athenians. A certain amount of relief also was experienced by reflecting upon the injuries which they were inflicting on the enemy; for the fleet as it sailed round Peloponnesus destroyed many small villages and cities, and ravaged a great extent of country, while Perikles himself led an expedition into the territory of Megara and laid it all waste. By this it is clear that the allies, although they did much damage to the Athenians, yet suffered equally themselves, and never could have protracted the war for such a length of time as it really lasted, but, as Perikles foretold, must soon have desisted had not Providence interfered and confounded human counsels. For now the pestilence fell among the Athenians, and cut off the flower of their youth. Suffering both in body and mind they raved against Perikles, just as people when delirious with disease attack their fathers or their physicians. They endeavoured to ruin him, urged on by his personal enemies, who assured them that he was the author of the plague, because he had brought all the country people into the city, where they were compelled to live during the heat of summer, crowded together in small rooms and stifling tents, living an idle life too, and breathing foul air instead of the pure country breezes to which they were accustomed. The cause of this, they said, was the man who, when the war began, admitted the masses of the country people into the city, and then made no use of them, but allowed them to be penned up together like cattle, and transmit the contagion from one to another, without devising any remedy or alleviation of their sufferings.

XXXV. Hoping to relieve them somewhat, and also to annoy the enemy, Perikles manned a hundred and fifty ships, placed on board, besides the sailors, many brave infantry and cavalry soldiers, and was about to put to sea. The Athenians conceived great hopes, and the enemy no less terror from so large an armament. When all was ready, and Perikles himself had just embarked in his own trireme, an eclipse of the sun took place, producing total darkness, and all men were terrified at so great a portent. Perikles, observing that his helmsman was alarmed and knew not what to do, held his cloak over the man's eyes and asked him if he thought that a terrible portent. As he answered that he did not, Perikles said: "What is the difference, then, between it and an eclipse of the sun, except that the eclipse is caused by something larger than my cloak?" This subject is discussed by the philosophers in their schools.

Perikles sailed with the fleet, but did nothing worthy of so great a force. He besieged the sacred city of Epidaurus, but, although he had great hopes of taking it, he failed on account of the plague, which destroyed not only his own men, but every one who came in contact with them. After this he again endeavoured to encourage the Athenians, to whom he had become an object of dislike. However, he did not succeed in pacifying them, but they condemned him by a public vote to be general no more, and to pay a fine which is stated at the lowest estimate to have been fifteen talents, and at the highest fifty. This was carried, according to Idomeneus, by Kleon, but according to Theophrastus by Simmias; whilst Herakleides of Pontus says that it was effected by Lakrateides.

XXXVI. He soon regained his public position, for the people's outburst of anger was quenched by the blow they had dealt him, just as a bee leaves its sting in the wound; but his private affairs were in great distress and disorder, as he had lost many of his relatives during the plague, while others were estranged from him on political grounds. Xanthippus too, the eldest of his legitimate sons, who was a spendthrift by nature and married to a woman of expensive habits, a daughter of Tisander, the son of Epilykus, could not bear with his father's stingy ways and the small amount of money which he allowed him. He consequently sent to one of his friends and borrowed money from him as if Perikles had authorised him to do so. When the friend asked for his money back again, Perikles prosecuted him, at which proceeding young Xanthippus was enraged and abused his father, sneering at his way of life and his discussions with the sophists. When some athlete accidentally killed Epitimus of Pharsalus with a javelin, he said that Perikles spent the whole day arguing with Protagoras whether in strict accuracy the javelin, or the man who threw it, or the stewards of the games, ought to be considered the authors of the mishap. And, besides this, Stesimbrotus tells us that Xanthippus put about that scandal about his father and his own wife, so that the father and son remained irreconcilable enemies until Xanthippus's death, which happened during the plague, by an attack of that disorder. At the same time Perikles lost his sister and most of his relations, especially those who supported his policy. Yet he would not yield, nor abate his firmness and constancy of spirit because of these afflictions, but was not observed to weep or mourn, or attend the funeral of any of his relations, until he lost Paralus, the last of his legitimate offspring. Crushed by this blow, he tried in vain to keep up his grand air of indifference, and when carrying a garland to lay upon the corpse he was overpowered by his feelings, so as to burst into a passion of tears and sobs, which he had never done before in his whole life.

XXXVII. Athens made trial of her other generals and public men to conduct her affairs, but none appeared to be of sufficient weight or reputation to have such a charge entrusted to him. The city longed for Perikles, and invited him again to lead its counsels and direct its armies; and he, although dejected in spirits and living in seclusion in his own house, was yet persuaded by Alkibiades and his other friends to resume the direction of affairs. The people apologised for their ungrateful treatment of him, and when he was again in office and elected as general, he begged of them to be released from the operations of the law of bastardy, which he himself had originally introduced, in order that his name and race might not altogether become extinct for want of an heir. The provisions of the law were as follows:--Perikles many years before, when he was at the height of his power and had children born to him, as we have related, of legitimate birth, proposed a law that only those born of an Athenian father and mother should be reckoned Athenian citizens. But when the king of Egypt sent a present of forty thousand _medimni_ of wheat to be divided among the citizens, many lawsuits arose about the citizenship of men whose birth had never been questioned before that law came into force, and many vexatious informations were laid. Nearly five thousand men were convicted of illegitimacy of birth and sold for slaves, while those who retained their citizenship and proved themselves to be genuine Athenians amounted to fourteen thousand and forty. It was indeed an unreasonable request that a law which had been enforced in so many instances should now be broken in the person of its own author, but Perikles's domestic misfortunes, in which he seemed to have paid the penalty for his former haughtiness and pride, touched the hearts of the Athenians so much that they thought his sorrows deserving of their pity, and his request such as he was entitled to make and they to grant in common charity, and they consented to his illegitimate son being enrolled in his own tribe and bearing his own name. This man was subsequently put to death by the people, together with all his colleagues, for their conduct after the sea-fight at Arginusae.

XXXVIII. After this it appears that Perikles was attacked by the plague, not acutely or continuously, as in most cases, but in a slow wasting fashion, exhibiting many varieties of symptoms, and gradually undermining his strength. Theophrastus, in his treatise on Ethics, discusses whether a man's character can be changed by disease, and whether virtue depends upon bodily health. As an example, he quotes a story that Perikles, when one of his friends came to visit him during his sickness, showed him a charm hung round his neck, as a proof that he must be indeed ill to submit to such a piece of folly. As he was now on his deathbed, the most distinguished of the citizens and his surviving friends collected round him and spoke admiringly of his nobleness and immense power, enumerating also the number of his exploits, and the trophies which he had set up for victories gained; for while in chief command he had won no less than nine victories for Athens. They were talking thus to one another in his presence, imagining that he could no longer understand them, but had lost his power of attending to them. He, however, was following all that they said, and suddenly broke silence, saying that he was surprised at their remembering and praising him for the exploits which depended entirely upon fortune for their success, and which many other generals had done as well as himself, while they did not mention his greatest and most glorious title to fame. "No Athenian," said he, "ever wore black because of me."

XXXIX. Perikles was to be admired, not only for his gentleness and mildness of spirit, which he preserved through the most violent political crises and outbreaks of personal hatred to himself, but also for his lofty disposition. He himself accounted it his greatest virtue that he never gave way to feelings of envy or hatred, but from his own exalted pinnacle of greatness never regarded any man as so much his enemy that he could never be his friend. This alone, in my opinion, justifies that outrageous nickname of his, and gives it a certain propriety; for so serene and impartial a man, utterly uncorrupt though possessed of great power, might naturally be called Olympian. Thus it is that we believe that the gods, who are the authors of all good and of no evil to men, rule over us and over all created things, not as the poets describe them in their bewildering fashion, which their own poems prove to be untrue. The poets describe the abode of the gods as a safe and untroubled place where no wind or clouds are, always enjoying a mild air and clear light, thinking such a place to be fittest for a life of immortal blessedness; while they represent the gods themselves as full of disorder and anger and spite and other passions, which are not becoming even to mortal men of common sense. Those reflections, however, perhaps belong to another subject.

Events soon made the loss of Perikles felt and regretted by the Athenians. Those who during his lifetime had complained that his power completely threw them into the shade, when after his death they had made trial of other orators and statesmen, were obliged to confess that with all his arrogance no man ever was really more moderate, and that his real mildness in dealing with men was as remarkable as his apparent pride and assumption. His power, which had been so grudged and envied, and called monarchy and despotism, now was proved to have been the saving of the State; such an amount of corrupt dealing and wickedness suddenly broke out in public affairs, which he before had crushed and forced to hide itself, and so prevented its becoming incurable through impunity and licence.

LIFE OF FABIUS MAXIMUS.

I. Such a man did Perikles show himself to be in his most memorable acts, as far as they are extant.

Let us now turn our attention to Fabius.

The first of the family is said to descend from one of the nymphs, according to some writers, according to others from an Italian lady who became the mother of Fabius by Hercules near the river Tiber. From him descended the family of the Fabii, one of the largest and most renowned in Rome. Some say that the men of this race were the first to use pitfalls in hunting, and were anciently named Fodii in consequence; for up to the present day ditches are called _fossae_, and to dig is called _fodere_ in Latin: and thus in time the two sounds became confused, and they obtained the name of Fabii. The family produced many distinguished men, the greatest of whom was Rullus, who was for that reason named Maximus by the Romans. From him Fabius Maximus, of whom I am now writing, was fourth in descent. His own personal nickname was Verrucosus, because he had a little wart growing on his upper lip. The name of Ovicula, signifying sheep, was also given him while yet a child, because of his slow and gentle disposition. He was quiet and silent, very cautious in taking part in children's games, and learned his lessons slowly and with difficulty, which, combined with his easy obliging ways with his comrades, made those who did not know him think that he was dull and stupid. Few there were who could discern, hidden in the depths of his soul, his glorious and lion-like character. Soon, however, as time went on, and he began to take part in public affairs, he proved that his apparent want of energy was really due to serenity of intellect, that he was cautious because he weighed matters well beforehand, and that while he was never eager or easily moved, yet he was always steady and trustworthy. Observing the immense extent of the empire, and the numerous wars in which it was engaged, he exercised his body in warlike exercises, regarding it as his natural means of defence, while he also studied oratory as the means by which to influence the people, in a style suited to his own life and character. In his speeches there were no flowery passages, no empty graces of style, but there was a plain common sense peculiar to himself, and a depth of sententious maxims which is said to have resembled Thucydides. One of his speeches is extant, a funeral oration which he made in public over his son who died after he had been consul.

II. He was consul five times, and in his first consulship obtained a triumph over the Ligurians. They were defeated by him and driven with great loss to take refuge in the Alps, and thus were prevented from ravaging the neighbouring parts of Italy as they had been wont to do. When Hannibal invaded Italy, won his first battle at the Trebia, and marched through Etruria, laying everything waste as he went, the Romans were terribly disheartened and cast down, and terrible prodigies took place, some of the usual kind, that is, by lightning, and others of an entirely new and strange character. It was said that shields of their own accord became drenched with blood: that at Antium standing corn bled when it was cut by the reapers; that red-hot stones fell from heaven, and that the sky above Falerii was seen to open and tablets to fall, on one of which was written the words "Mars is shaking his arms."

None of these omens had any effect upon Caius Flaminius, the consul, for, besides his naturally spirited and ambitious nature, he was excited by the successes which he had previously won, contrary to all reasonable probability. Once, against the express command of the Senate, and in spite of the opposition of his colleague, he engaged with the Gauls and won a victory over them. Fabius also was but little disturbed by the omens, because of their strange and unintelligible character, though many were alarmed at them. Knowing how few the enemy were in numbers, and their great want of money and supplies, he advised the Romans not to offer battle to a man who had at his disposal an army trained by many previous encounters to a rare pitch of perfection, but rather to send reinforcements to their allies, keep a tight hand over their subject cities, and allow Hannibal's brilliant little force to die away like a lamp which flares up brightly with but little oil to sustain it.

III. This reasoning had no effect upon Flaminius, who said that he would not endure to see an enemy marching upon Rome, and would not, like Camillus of old, fight in the streets of Rome herself. He ordered the military tribunes to put the army in motion, and himself leaped upon his horse's back. The horse for no visible reason shied in violent terror, and Flaminius was thrown headlong to the ground. He did not, however, alter his determination, but marched to meet Hannibal, and drew up his forces for battle near the lake Thrasymenus, in Etruria. When the armies met, an earthquake took place which destroyed cities, changed the courses of rivers, and cast down the crests of precipices; but in spite of its violence, no one of the combatants perceived it. Flaminius himself, after many feats of strength and courage, fell dead, and around him lay the bravest Romans. The rest fled, and the slaughter was so great that fifteen thousand were killed, and as many more taken prisoners. Hannibal generously desired to bury the body of Flaminius with military honours, to show his esteem for the consul's bravery; but it could not be found among the slain, and no one knew how it disappeared.

The defeat at the Trebia had not been clearly explained either by the general who wrote the despatch, or by the messenger who carried it, as they falsely represented it to have been a drawn battle; but as soon as the praetor Pomponius heard the news of this second misfortune, he assembled the people in the Forum, and said, without any roundabout apologies whatever, "Romans, we have lost a great battle, the army is destroyed, and the consul Flaminius has fallen. Now, therefore, take counsel for your own safety." These words produced the same impression on the people that a gust of wind does upon the sea. No one could calmly reflect after such a sudden downfall of their hopes. All, however, agreed that the State required one irresponsible ruler, which the Romans call a dictatorship, and a man who would fulfil this office with fearless energy. Such a man, they felt, was Fabius Maximus, who was sufficiently qualified for the office by his abilities and the respect which his countrymen bore him, and was moreover at that time of life when the strength of the body is fully capable of carrying out the ideas of the mind, but when courage is somewhat tempered by discretion.

IV. As soon as the people had passed their decree, Fabius was appointed dictator,[A] and appointed Marcus Minucius his master of the horse. First, however, he begged of the Senate to allow him the use of a horse during his campaigns. There was an ancient law forbidding this practice, either because the main strength of the army was thought to lie in the columns of infantry, and for that reason the dictator ought to remain always with them, or else because, while in all other respects the dictator's power is equal to that of a king, it was thought well that in this one point he should have to ask leave of the people. Next, however, Fabius, wishing at once to show the greatness and splendour of his office, and so make the citizens more ready to obey him, appeared in public with all his twenty-four lictors at once; and when the surviving consul met him, he sent an officer to bid him dismiss his lictors, lay aside his insignia of office, and come before him as a mere private citizen. After this he began in the best possible way, that is, by a religious ceremony, and assured the people that it was in consequence of the impiety and carelessness of their late general, not by any fault of the army, that they had been defeated. Thus he encouraged them not to fear their enemies, but to respect the gods and render them propitious, not that he implanted any superstitious observances among them, but he confirmed their valour by piety, and took away from them all fear of the enemy by the hopes which he held out to them of divine protection. At this time many of the holy and mysterious books, which contain secrets of great value to the State, were inspected. These are called the Sibylline books. One of the sentences preserved in these was said to have an evident bearing on contemporary events; what it was can only be guessed at by what was done. The dictator appeared before the people and publicly vowed to the gods a _ver sacrum_, that is, all the young which the next spring should produce, from the goats, the sheep, and the kine on every mountain, and plain, and river, and pasture within the bounds of Italy. All these he swore that he would sacrifice, and moreover that he would exhibit musical and dramatic shows, and expend upon them the sum of three hundred and thirty-three _sestertia_, and three hundred and thirty-three _denarii_, and one-third of a _denarius_. The sum total of this in our Greek money is eighty-three thousand five hundred and eighty-three drachmas and two obols. What the particular virtue of this exact number may be it is hard to determine, unless it be on account of the value of the number three, which is by nature perfect, and the first of odd numbers, the first also of plurals, and containing within itself all the elements of the qualities of number.

[Footnote A: Liv., xxii. 8, _sq._]